"Wuwu..."
The young man shuddered violently. He felt as if something foul had its eyes on him.
When he sensed something was wrong and looked back, Qin Feng had already returned to normal. He even smiled at him amiably and gave a small nod.
Could that have been my imagination!?
The young man began to wonder, and felt a little regretful.
In the past, he had never gone out of his way to answer anyone's questions. But for some reason, when he saw Murong Jing just now, he had spoken up—and now he had a very bad feeling about it.
"This one is Qin Feng of Immortal Casting Peak!"
Qin Feng clasped his fists in greeting. "May I ask your esteemed name, Senior Brother?"
"So you're a junior brother from Immortal Casting Peak!"
The young man came back to his senses and hurriedly returned the salute. "This one is Zhao Changsheng, an ordinary disciple of the Library Pavilion."
"Senior Brother Zhao, you're far too modest!"
Afraid Zhao Changsheng might run off again, Qin Feng grabbed his hand. "From what you said just now, it's clear you're no ordinary disciple. You're a man of great learning. I must ask you to teach me a thing or two."
"Uh..."
Zhao Changsheng felt that if Qin Feng latched on to him, he'd never have a moment's peace. He hurriedly pulled his hand away and declined. "Junior Brother Qin, you're joking. I really am just an ordinary disciple. I've only read a few more books than most. I'm no great scholar, and I certainly don't deserve to be called your teacher!"
"Senior Brother Zhao, are you looking down on me?"
Qin Feng immediately took the moral high ground, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You were willing to offer guidance to a junior sister you'd